


Stay by My Side, and Never Leave

by Anastasis (Nanabana)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death, Slave!Phichit, Slave!Yuri, Slave!Yuuri, Slow Build, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-19 00:23:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9409103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanabana/pseuds/Anastasis
Summary: Yuuri was born on a calm day when the snow has yet to melt and the earth has not yet awakened from its slumber.  It was calm, silent, almost as if the rest of the world hushed especially just for him. Ironic, really. He was born on a calm day yet the life ahead of him was nothing but calm. If anything, it was a series of rainy days and violent storms.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you won't get mad at me for making this kind of story^^. I'm just a bit depressed with my life lately so this fanfic's born. English is not my first language so please bear with the odd phrases and grammatical errors.Enjoy~

He was born on a calm day when the snow has yet to melt and the earth has not yet awakened from its slumber. It was a cold day, the wind slices the skin like little daggers, and the snow carpets the world in pure, serene white. It was calm, silent, almost as if the rest of the world hushed especially just for him.  
  
Right before twilight dominated the winter sky, Yuuri Katsuki was born on that calm day. He announced his arrival to the world with a loud cry like a prince expecting warm, cheery welcome. But it was silent, it was cold. As silent as a graveyard and as calm as a lazy summer day. Ironic, really. He was born on a calm day yet the life ahead of him was nothing but calm. If anything, it was a series of rainy days and violent storms.  
  
Hiroko Katsuki breathed a sigh of relief when she saw his tiny body wriggling beneath the layers of white cloths they wrapped him with. She turned to look at Toshiya Katsuki with tears in her eyes and whispered _“Our little prince is finally here”._ Toshiya in turn nodded and wiped his tears, gently poking Yuuri’s still wrinkled cheeks with his fingers. Yuuri responded by burying his wrinkled little face under the warm cloths much to the delight of his parents.

He was not born as a prince in title but he was born as a prince in spirit. His father is one of those anonymous faces who serve the castle, delivering papers and other documents when needed. His mother stays at home and tends to her small vegetable garden in their backyard. They lived a simple life, far away from power battles and the dirty world of politics at that time.

On lazy days, when Yuuri turned a year old, Hiroko would take him to the castle grounds opened to the public to play and roll around in the grass when he wants to. She would watch him with fond eyes while she knits. When work ends Toshiya would meet them and they would leisurely stroll around with Yuuri sleeping on his arms. Before twilight fully settles they would be back at home and Hiroko would cook dinner while Yuuri sleeps, his little hands tightened into tiny fists. Toshiya would laugh watching him suck at his thumb and Hiroko would huff at him telling him to stay quiet unless he really wants to disturb Yuuri.  
  
Those were beautiful days and Yuuri was loved the way little children should be loved. The storm has yet to settle. However, beautiful days also turn ugly, good things never last and people leaves no matter how tight you hold on to them.

When he turned four, Hiroko died due to some unknown disease that even the best healers could not decipher what. Toshiya cried while holding Yuuri in his arms and Yuuri stared at him, wondering what the water from his eyes were for. He was much too young to understand the permanency of death. To him, his mother’s absence was just temporary. He would cry at night looking for her, longing for her arms around him but it was not grief; he still believed she was out tending to her garden or knitting somewhere… he still believed she would come back. But she didn’t and Yuuri soon forgot what she looks like or what her voice sounds like. He could only remember bits and pieces of memories of gentle touches and loving kisses but nothing more.

When he turned five, the country was divided into two parts grinding in friction: the Eastlands and the Westlands. The division was brought about by ideals that could never meet, opposing perspectives, different goals and a battle for wealth. His side of the country was plunged in despair and poverty. The usual proud castle suddenly looked old and worn down. The cheerful streets where flowers used to bloom were suddenly dominated by weird smells and worn down houses. It was like death playing before his eyes. But he was still too young to understand the hopelessness of their situation.  
  
He was almost seven when his father was accused of betrayal. Toshiya was accused of spying for the Eastlands for money. One stormy night before Yuuri’s birthday several men whose faces Yuuri never saw barged in on their house with weapons and harsh words. Yuuri was scared, his father turned white as paper and pushed Yuuri behind him; his last efforts to protect his son.

“Run out the backdoor. Keep on running and never look back even if you hear something strange,” his father hissed in his ears and the urgency in his voice scared Yuuri. In his young mind he could not understand what he meant but when the men started to grab his father’s arms and Yuuri was pushed towards the backdoor, he did exactly what he was told.

He run as fast as his feet would allow, out the back door, out into the stormy winter night. He did not look back just as his father said. He did not look back even when he heard his father’s desperate cries for him to run and save himself; he did not look back even when he smell smoke coming from somewhere, he did not look back even as screams of pain assaulted his ears. He did not look back but he could feel a strange wetness in his eyes that was something more than water from the rain. Something in his chest twinge painfully, constricting until he heard pained moans coming from somewhere.

He took shelter under a nameless, large tree, gasping for breath and the pained moans grew stronger. Only when the wind stopped howling did he realize the moans were his own. He was crying. For the first time in his life he learned that a strange, salty liquid fall from your eyes when your chest feels like it would burst. For the first time in his life he learned what fear and grief was like.

When Yuuri turned seven that night, he lost his father to a fire that was passed upon as an ordinary occurrence in a town plagued with monsters for power and wealth.

Midnight rolled and the surroundings were buried beneath the onyx night. The storm raged and Yuuri sat under the tree, shivering from the cold, from fear and from sorrow. For a boy who just turned seven, the blackness of the night was the scariest he had ever seen. Strange sounds mischievously played with his ears and he would jump at the slightest sense of movement. He rocked back and forth, back and forth, crying for anyone to wrap their arms around him and keep him safe from the monsters. The howling wind and the piercing cold dragged him to sleep a few moments later and the rest of the world was drowned by his dreams of sunny days and laughter.

He woke up a day later wrapped in tattered blankets. His stomach growled of hunger and his throat felt dry and raw. He could hear voices from somewhere. He pushed himself up gingerly and was greeted by wooden walls aged by the weather. The floor was also made of wood that creaked when pressure is applied. The ceiling was full of dust and other things. Before Yuuri’s young mind caught up with his situation a man dressed in dirty clothes appeared from the doorway to his right and flashed him a dry, toothless smile. A woman with a messy ponytail and an annoyed face appeared after the toothless man and her mouth twitched in a scowl when she saw Yuuri. “Great, another mouth to feed,” she complained and the toothless man nudged her.

“He can hear you,” the toothless man hissed and then he turned to Yuuri. “Hungry?”

The little child nodded in confusion, choosing to ignore the pounding of his heart while his stomach complains for food. The toothless man whispered something to the menacing woman and she disappeared somewhere, her annoyed voice echoing in their ears..

The toothless man moved towards Yuuri and sat beside him.

“What’s your name?” he asked and the little child cowered to the wall behind him as he clutch the tattered blankets to his chest. “I won’t hurt you,” the man cooed. “We found you the other day when the storm cleared. What happened to you? How old are you? What’s your name?” the questions kept on coming.  
  
Yuuri stared at the man in fear before he spoke, his voice thin and frail and scared.  
“Yuuri Katsuki,” he answered and swallowed.

“Ah… Yuuri. How old are you?”

“Seven.”  
  
The toothless man rubbed his chin when he heard this. “Old enough,” Yuuri heard him whisper. He kept the blanket clutched to his chest while the man contemplates on something. “You look like a runaway kid to me,” he said as the menacing woman made a reappearance. She laid a bowl of something that looked like porridge in front of Yuuri and snarled for him to eat.

Yuuri did not wait to be told twice and started eating at tasteless food. He was hungry and all he cares about is to get something to eat. The toothless man watched him as his eyes twinkle over something. When Yuuri finished, the man handed him a glass of water and the questions continued.  
  
“What happened to you, kid?”

There was a long moment of silence as Yuuri tried to remember but things suddenly seemed like a blur in his mind. The only things he could remember were the men barging in on their house, his father telling him to run and the smell of smoke. He related this to the toothless man and he nodded in understanding as if he knew what happened. He patted Yuuri’s head and told him to rest some more before he could meet the family. Yuuri nodded faintly and fell back into a dreamless sleep.

Hours later he awoke to the feeling of someone poking him at his side. “Wake up,” a young voice was calling him. “Hey! Wake up. Don’t let mom be the one to wake you up. She’s in a bad mood.”  
  
Yuuri opened his eyes slowly and hazily focused on the person prodding him. As layers of sleep peeled away from his consciousness, he realized he was looking at a young boy with blond and brown hair, probably older than him by a few years.

“Wha… what?” Yuuri asked dazedly.

“Dinner. You need to eat dinner,” the boy said and watched as Yuuri pulled himself up to a sitting position. “Hurry or there will be nothing left,” he said and moved towards the door. He turned back and saw Yuuri still sitting on the rickety bed. “Hurry!”

Yuuri blinked once and stood up on his wobbly feet. He followed the boy out of the room and into the small kitchen filled with at least eight people. There was a small table at the center, ten plates, a bowl of soup, rice and fish. The toothless man sat at the end of the table, three young girls sat to his right, five boys sat to his left. Only two chairs were empty: the one at the other end of the table and the last chair beside the five boys.

“Hello Yuuri. Feeling better?” the toothless man asked and Yuuri nodded slowly. The young boy who woke him up took the vacant chair beside the five boys and Yuuri was left standing beside him until the menacing woman entered from somewhere.

“Let’s eat,” she said and tossed a plate to Yuuri’s hands. “Find a corner and eat there. We have no more space for you,” she growled at him and Yuuri stood like an idiot until she repeated the order with a more menacing growl. He nodded slowly, got a small amount of his share and ate silently in a corner. He watched as the family ate, laughed, told stories to one another and in his little young heart he longs for those days when he and his father would sit to dinner like that. Sometimes his father would tell Yuuri stories about those good old days when his mother was still alive and though Yuuri could not remember her anymore, he was convinced she was a loving woman.

As he ate in one corner and stared at the family, he felt his eyes burn and tears once again fell to his cheeks for some reason that his young heart could not comprehend. He sobbed over his plate and one of the young girls noticed him.

“He’s crying,” she said and pointed to Yuuri. The menacing woman scowled but the toothless man went over to him and hugged him, his hands rubbing his back.

For the first week that Yuuri spent with the family, he always cried during dinner when the family would gather and the toothless man would always hug him. Yuuri never bothered to ask for his name or his family member’s name. All he knew was that the toothless man is a minor merchant in the public market selling various vegetables. His wife stays at home to take care of the young children while three of their sons and one daughter were employed in various jobs, all earning enough to feed their big family but not enough to afford the luxury that can rarely be found in their poverty-stricken land. The menacing woman considered Yuuri an extra mouth to feed and orders him around the house during the first week, fetching water, chopping wood and doing various kinds of things that Yuuri never really did before. He stayed quiet and obeyed her orders.

On the second week she ordered Yuuri to accompany the toothless man to the market to sell the vegetables and he complied with her request. She was menacing but she never asked him to leave and for the young boy, that was enough. Weeks rolled by and Yuuri considered the family as his own. During dinner time he would stay in his own corner wishing for the day when he would get a seat in that small table, join in on their conversations and simply be a part of the family. Life was hard, the tasks were difficult but in his young mind, Yuuri believed it was better than staying in the streets. Dreams of his father and mother still haunt him at night but when he wakes up to the sounds of the pots in the kitchen, the smell of food and the bouncing laughter, he would forget about the dream and thoughts about the life he lived before would dissolve into thoughts of his new family.

Before spring ended that year a fancy carriage stopped in front of the house and two men in expensive looking clothes came. Yuuri and the others watched as they talked to the toothless man and the menacing woman. They watched as they handed something that looked like money to the toothless man and their gazes landed on Yuuri.

“Is that the kid?” they asked and Yuuri’s heart jumped in fear. He remembered the day when men barged in on their house and his father asked him to leave without looking back. He shrunk back into a wall, trying to make himself invisible.

The toothless man nodded solemnly and walked over to Yuuri, taking him into a tight hug.  
“Hey Yuuri, I’m sorry to do this but we can’t afford to have you here. I want you to stay but it simply can’t happen,” he whispered in his ears and Yuuri could feel the man’s tears damp his clothes. He gently picked Yuuri up and handed him to the fancy looking men.

“Here,” the toothless man said, his eyes misty with tears. “Take care, Yuuri,” he said and that was when it dawned to the young child that he was sold. With fear in his tiny heart he thrashed and kicked and screamed.  
  
“No! No!” he flailed with his tiny arms as he was carried to the carriage. “No!” he said, his arms outstretched, begging the toothless man to take him back. In his vision blurred by tears he could see his supposed siblings crying, the youngest of them clinging to the menacing woman who was wiping her face. “Let me stay! Please…! Please…!” he cried to the toothless man and in his tiny little heart, he could feel the longing for the new family he just found. He can’t leave. He wants to stay here. Even if it’s difficult.  
  
With his now hoarse voice, Yuuri reached out his arms one last time and called the toothless man something that made the other’s eyes widen. “F-father…! Father! Father!” Yuuri wailed, his arms outstretched. The toothless man run towards him.

“Wait!” he called the fancy men. The men brought Yuuri down and he run to the arms of the man he called father in the few months that he has known him. Yuuri wrapped his arms around the neck of the man and cried.

“Please let me stay. I promise I’ll work hard. I’ll do everything. Please let me stay,” he pleaded. The toothless man hugged him and shook his head.

“We can’t, Yuuri. I can’t. Go now. You’ll be better with them. Go.” He said and handed him back to the men but this time he turned around and never looked back. Yuuri continued to cry as he was brought inside the courage. He turned in his seat and watched as his family became a tiny dot in the distance and then disappeared.

“This is the way it should be, kid,” one of the men said and Yuuri only cried harder.

\-----------------------  
  
Yuuri winced in pain when he awoke. With bleary eyes he allowed himself to stay for a few more minutes in bed before standing up and crying softly as the pain shot from his thighs. He moved towards the mirror and examined the back of his thighs. He moaned in pain when he saw the bruises that were now a cross between purple and blue. He closed his eyes and willed the pain to go away. Now at twenty three, it has been a routine for him for the last fifteen years since he was sold to serve a rich merchant and Yuuri got so used to it. The pain would eventually subside and he would be back to his work, cleaning the house, cleaning the surroundings, serving guests for the parties the rich merchant often holds. The work starts early in the dawn and ends late at night.

The merchant’s house is always a blur of activities everyday and there was no time to rest. There were a large number of servants working for the merchant but that never seemed to be enough to keep up with the activities. The work would have been fine and Yuuri could have endured it if it weren’t for the harsh punishment that was inevitable whenever someone does something wrong.  
  
Last night, in one of the parties that the merchant held, Yuuri accidentally tipped a glass of wine on one of the lady guests from the Eastlands. She complained like a bitch about it and how it ruined her expensive gown. The merchant glared at Yuuri and told him how much of a troublemaker he is. He motioned for the bald headman and Yuuri was pulled towards a room where the punishment usually occurs.  
  
Yuuri closed his eyes and mentally prepared himself for the whip. It came not long after. Ten harsh strikes and everything was over. It would leave a menacing bruise but Yuuri could endure it. What he could not endure was the punishment that was to come later when the merchant is already drunk. For the past year Yuuri had been the object of his affection in its twisted sense. When the merchant gets too tipsy he would order Yuuri to his room and satisfy his sexual desires over the young man. After every session Yuuri would feel dirty in spite of his attempts to get rid of the feeling through bathing. It has always been that way and Yuuri hated it.

“Do you want me to put medicine on that?” a voice sounded and Yuuri’s roommate, Yuri Plisetsky, rubbed his eyes as he sat on the bed. He looked sympathetically at Yuuri. “Does it hurt?” he asked.  
  
Yuuri nodded. “It hurts. But it’ll go away,” he said. “Thanks anyway.”

Yuri Plisetsky is younger than him by five years. When Yuuri’s twelve, Yuri was sent there and the younger boy’s foul-mouthed towards everything was rude and cute at the same time that Yuuri was drawn to him in an instant. They became friends not long after and Yuuri taught him everything he needs to know. Unlike Yuuri though, Yuri’s work is purely a servant, nothing more, yet. Occassionally, they will both be punished but the whip was enough for Yuri. He would not be summoned in the merchant’s room, he would not be disgusted with himself, he would not be traumatized. Yuri, unlike Yuuri, is clean.

“Fuck it. I’ll put medicine on it anyway,” Yuri cursed and shuffled towards the drawer on their small cabinet. He fished out something and started applying something cold on Yuuri’s bruises. “I don’t know how you can tolerate this. We were sold as servants, you were sold as a servant. You’re not a sex toy,” Yuri said through gritted teeth.

Yuuri stared at himself on the mirror. “This is home for me,” he stated quietly. “If I leave, I have nowhere to go. Even if I want to leave, I can’t. We were sold, Yurio. We don’t have the freedom to do what we want.”  
  
“Still…” Yuri wanted to say something more when a ringing bell caught their attention. It was the signal for the servants to wake up. Yuri sighed and stood up when he finished applying the medicine. “Still… I’m worried about you. I wish… I wish we could leave here and live our lives the way we want. We’re so close to the border to the Eastlands, you know. If we could get there, we have the chance to live a normal life.”

Yuri’s wish came true two nights after. The merchant came home that night and asked for Yuuri again. The young man complied with no complaints and he was already inside the merchant’s room, about to undress when the fire started.

“Fire!” Someone yelled and the merchant jumped from bed, confused. He run towards the door and yanked it open . Thick smoke greeted him and he coughed wildly. Yuuri stood confused inside the room for a minute before it occurred to him that he had to run. He had to do something to save himself. He pushed past the merchant and zoomed towards the stairs, covering his nose as the smoke gets thicker. The house was in panic, screams could be heard everywhere and people bumped into each other as they all run towards safety. Amidst the screams, Yuuri learned that the government learned that the merchant was a spy from the Eastlands and has condemned him summarily.  
  
Yuuri froze in his spot, remembering that his father was accused of the same crime. He remembered the smell of smoke, his father’s cries of pain… they must have executed him in the same way they are doing to the merchant now.

“Yurio!” Yuuri shouted before coughing wildly. “Yurio!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, looking for Yuri. People pushed past him, someone stepped on his foot and Yuri was nowhere to be found.  
  
“The doors are closed! We’re trapped!” Someone screamed. “They’ve locked the doors!”  
  
“We’re going to die!” Another screamed and Yuuri was terrified. They were really going to kill the merchant and the government did not care whether innocent people are trapped inside.  
  
“Yurio!” he continued to yell for Yuri, his eyes burning with tears from the smoke. He could see the east side of the mansion burning, he feel the heat, he felt his lungs protesting the smoke. “Yuri…” he tried to shout but his mind was slowly going blank amidst the smoke.

“Oi, Katsudon!” that was when he heard Yuri’s voice calling his name. “Yuuri!”

  
“Over here Yurio… I’m near the stairs… we’re trapped the doors…” Yuuri coughed while trying to shout for Yuri. He felt firm hands grab at his wrists.

“Yuuri!” he could make out Yuri’s features beside him amidst the thick, black smoke. “We need to get out!” the other coughed wildly.

  
“But we’re trapped. They’ve locked the doors. We’re trapped Yurio. They’re executing the merchant…” Yuuri protested.

Yuri tightened his grip on Yuuri’s hands. “There’s a secret door behind the merchant’s study room. I bet he escaped using that,” Yuri said and pulled Yuuri upstairs where the fire has not yet eaten the mansion. He explained that he accidentally found it while cleaning the study room. It was behind the book shelves and it leads directly to the border separating the Eastlands and the Westlands. The merchant must have used it in conducting his activities as a spy. Yuri continued pulling him as the smoke thickens and fire burned the mansion. The screams of their fellow servants, bodyguards and other occupants of the mansion plagued their ears but Yuuri ignored them. His and Yuri’s safety comes first… they need to get out…

\-------------------------------  
  
The next time Yuuri opened his eyes he could see trees surrounding him and the sky was tinged with an orange glow. It was almost dawn. He coughed fiercely as he rubs his eyes. When he tried to stand, he realized he was on the ground. He pulled himself up abruptly and looked around wildly, the events suddenly pouring back to him. The fire, Yuri pulling him to safety… where is Yuri?  
  
“You okay?” Yuri yawned from somewhere and Yuuri turned to find the other sitting with his back against a tree.

“Yurio!” Yuuri gasped in relief. “You’re okay. We’re okay,” he said and Yuri nodded. He grinned towards Yuuri. “Where are we?”

Yuri’s grin grew wider.

“We’re in the Eastlands,” he declared as if that was a cause for a celebration.

 

 

TBC


	2. One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri was born on a calm day when the snow has yet to melt and the earth has not yet awakened from its slumber. It was calm, silent, almost as if the rest of the world hushed especially just for him. Ironic, really. He was born on a calm day yet the life ahead of him was nothing but calm. If anything, it was a series of rainy days and violent storms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still the queen of typos and errors but... Enjoy?

“The Eastlands…” Yuuri murmured as he surveyed his surroundings. There is an orange tinge in the sky, signaling dawn’s arrival. The orange glow filters through the trees giving the leaves a magical glow. There were strange sounds of creatures waking that early and the air is still humid with fresh dews. “Yurio,” Yuuri turned to Yuri who was pulling himself up to a standing position.

“Yurio, we’re…”

There was a certain sparkle in Yuri’s eyes as he said, “we’re free, Katsudon. We’re free…”

It was a mysterious feeling. Yuuri grasped the clothes covering his chest and felt something blossom within him. What was it? It was warm, overwhelming, almost choking him but it was not painful. It’s something close to relief, something akin to the feeling you get when you want to laugh to your heart’s content. Is this… happiness?

Yuri walked over and pulled Yuuri to his feet. The older man winced in pain as his mind finally caught up with the pained complaints his body was making. His thighs are still, after all, covered in purplish bruises.

“Slowly,” Yuri said as Yuuri grabs his arms, trying to support himself.   
  
“Yurio,” Yuuri began when he was finally able to stand firmly on his feet. “What are we going to do from here?”

\-----------------------------  
  
The air blowing in through his window smelled fresh and inviting. Victor Nikiforov sleepily rubbed his eyes and stretched as the orangey sky meets his gaze. He pulled himself up from bed and walked towards the window, admiring the view of the sun slowly peeking from behind the mountains.

He closed his eyes and inhaled the morning air, mentally preparing himself for the work waiting for him that day. There have been a growing number of complaints from the field workers about low salaries that was never commensurate with the amount of work they have to do and Victor’s father had assigned him to enter into a compromise with the workers. It was never easy arriving at a settlement and most of the time, they have to ask workers to leave. They can always be replaced.

People can always be replaced, that was what Victor had been taught growing up. In a society where status is dictated by power and wealth, it’s either you eat or be eaten.

_“You give in to their demands and they start demanding for something bigger,”_ his father’s words rang in his ears and Victor wholeheartedly believed it. He had been reared to not bow down to anything, to always keep his head up, to act like the world has to bow down to him and he have every right to do so. Victor Nikiforov belongs to a clan that holds something more than wealth. They hold power. Owning wealth and owning power are two different things. Wealth is superficial, power goes deeper.

_“Remember that love is a manipulative tool and kindness is a weakness. You allow one to get to your senses and you lose everything you have”._

The soft knock on the door broke Victor’s reveries as his mother appeared, carrying a breakfast tray. She smiled gently at her son before placing the tray down on the side table.  
“You’re up so early again,” she observed.

“I have work to do,” Victor answered and kissed her cheeks. “It should be a servant bringing me food and not you, mother.”

She wrinkled her nose and pinched her son’s cheeks.

“I’m not allowed to spoil my own son?” she faked a hurt expression and Victor smiled at her lovingly. His mother is a gentle woman in contrast to his father. Victor had grown up to the care of parents who always holds opposite views in life. His father is a strict disciplinarian while his mother is a loving woman who likes to spoil her only son. Victor likes his mother a lot and he turns into cotton whenever he talks to her.

“Let’s eat together,” Victor said and took his mother by the hand, leading her to the small table near the window where he usually eats his breakfast.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” she said and fixed her robes. “Your father went to work early and it gets really lonely eating alone.”

Victor laughed and poured coffee for her. “Shouldn’t you be used to it by now?” he asked her.

“I’m worried about him,” she declared. “He’s not young anymore and yet he’s still actively participating in military activities. He told me last night that our spies have been reporting disturbing news about the Westland’s invasion plans and I’m really worried,” she chewed on her bottom lip.

Victor sat down in front of her and held her hand.

“It’s not going to happen, mom. I’m sure whatever it is, our own military forces can prevent it. We’re better than them, remember that,” Victor assured her yet he, himself doubt his own words. His friend, Otabek, had told him how the government issued an order to capture all those who cross the border without documents from the government. It was a telltale sign of a preventive measure, a form of self-defense and the military had been wary lately. He heaved a deep breath and forced a smile as his mother rubbed his hands and grinned at him.

An hour later, Victor found himself face to face with the peasant leader who was fidgeting with his hat.

“The least we can offer you is to reduce the amount of work but the wages remain the same,” Victor declared as he crosses his arms in front of him.

“The wage we receive is not enough to feed our families. What we’re asking for is a little increase, why can’t you give it?” the leader shot him with a disgusted look and Victor chose to ignore it. He rubbed his temple and heaved a sigh.

“It’s a take it or leave it situation. It’s not our fault that you do not know how to manage your money properly. Those who do not agree to this proposition will have to be replaced,” he declared and the leader’s eyes widened at him.

“But what about our families?”

“That is not our problem. If you can’t feed them, find other means. Whore yourself out, do what you can. It’s not our problem anymore. As I’ve said, it’s a take it or leave it situation,” Victor answered coldly and turned on his heels, ready to leave.

The leader threw his hat at him and the hard portion of it smacked Victor at the back of his head.  
“You bastard! You inhuman, heartless bastard! I hope you experience how it feels like to be hopeless. I hope you experience how it feels like to desperately try to protect someone. I hope you experience how it feels to have nothing. I hope you experience how to truly live so you’ll understand. Someday… someday you’ll come begging for help and no one will be there!” he spat on the ground before running away and shouting obscenities.

Victor brushed the back of his head calmly and whispered _“then I’ll make sure that someday does not come.”_  
\--------------------------------  
  
“We’re lost, Yurio,” Yuuri stated the obvious as he and Yuri trudge through trees. It has been hours of walking and yet they can never seem to find a way out of the forest that serves as the border between the Eastlands and the Westlands.

“We’re not lost,” Yuri declared confidently. “There’s bound to be a way out.”

“We’ve been walking for hours and I’m tired. Let’s rest for a bit.” Yuuri complained as his feet starts to hurt each time he takes a step. Getting through the border is one thing and deciding what to do after crossing the border is another thing. He was about to give up and collapse on the ground when Yuri noticed something.

“Katsudon! I heard voices. They’re near! Maybe they can point us to the right direction!” Yuri said excitedly and pulled Yuuri towards the direction of the voices. They came to a clearing where three Eastland soldiers were huddled over a small fire, cooking something. Yuri would have approached them immediately if not for the topic of their conversation.

“The government ordered the capture of those who cross the border without documents the other day,” one of them said as he stirs something inside an iron pot perched on top of the fire. “You’ve heard of that, Otabek?” he asked the one who was busy sipping something from a cup.   
  
Yuri stopped in his tracks and pushed Yuuri behind a tree.   
“Don’t make a sound,” he mouthed.

The man named Otabek nodded. “Yeah. I’ve heard, Mickey.”

“What if we capture someone? What will we do?” Michele Crispino asked as he continued to stir something inside the pot.

“Personally…” Otabek started and paused to sip from his cup. “I might just send them back to the Westlands. I know we’re ordered to capture them and all, but I don’t think that’ll be fair. Just send them back and spare them from years of detention for something as trivial as entering the border without documents.”

“You’re too softhearted to be a soldier, Otabek,” the third, more muscular soldier said. “But I agree with you. If we catch someone, let’s just send them back. I don’t think my conscience can bear something as sending someone to prison for trying to escape the poverty in the Westlands.”

“Are you trying to tell me this is once again tied up to your religious belief, Emil?” Michele joked as he and Otabek laughed.

Yuri and Yuuri continued to listen to the conversation and the thought of being sent back to the Westlands after their toil to escape does not sound appealing.

“What are we going to do, Yurio?” Yuuri asked in panic, tugging at Yuri’s sleeves. “What if they catch us?”

“Shh… just head back quietly, try not to make a sound…” Yuri started to say as he accidentally stepped on a twig and it loudly made a sound as the twig snapped. Yuri cursed.

The three soldiers were instantly up on their feet, their faces alert.  
“Who’s there?” Otabek demanded as he motioned for Emil and Michele. “Show yourself!”

Yuuri looked at Yuri with panicked eyes and Yuri swallowed hard before telling him to run. “When I say run, you run without looking back,” Yuri hissed as they hear the footsteps of the three soldiers coming closer.

It took an agonizing minute before they were discovered and Yuri roughly pushed Yuuri to get the other to start running.

“Run, Yuuri!” he shouted and Yuuri did as he was told.

“Oi! Stop! No Mickey, don’t shoot!” Yuuri could hear the voices of the three soldiers as they gave chase but he kept on running, his heart pounding. It was no different from the night his father was killed. It was no different from the night his life changed forever and Yuuri felt tears stinging his eyes as he kept on running, ignoring the pained complaints his feet was sending him.   
  
He could feel Yuri running behind him and if they run fast enough, they can escape. If they run fast enough… Yuri gave a pained cry from behind him.

“Yurio!” Yuuri broke his promise and looked back to find Yuri trip on something and hit his head on a protruding rock. “Yurio!” he wanted to run back to Yuri but the other kept on shouting as he held a hand to his bloody forehead.

“Don’t! Run! Go on! I’ll follow…!” Yuri snarled at him and Yuuri had no choice. The soldiers were coming nearer. He doesn’t want to be sent back to the Westlands… he doesn’t want to be captured.

“RUN!” Yuri shouted and Yuuri took off, running for his life. Why was he always running? Why can’t he stay in one place and be happy? Why was he leaving Yuri behind when they were in this together? Thoughts burned in his mind as he willed his feet to keep moving.   
\-------------------------------  
  
Yuri had this weird sensation that he was moving. He tried to open his eyes but the world swam in front of him and he was forced to keep them closed. He could hear hushed voices somewhere and only then did he realize that he was being carried by someone. Panic rose in his chest and he tried to wriggle free of whoever was holding him but his limbs refuse to obey his mind. They were too tired, too listless and he remained still in the arms of the person carrying him.

“What are we going to do with him, Otabek?” Yuri could hear someone ask through the splitting pain in his head. “What if he dies? He’s bleeding hard.”

“I don’t know. I just… we can’t send him back in this state, he’ll die. We can’t turn him over either, they’ll let him die. I can’t… I just…”

“Otabek…”

“We’ll keep him alive for now.”

\------------------------------  
  
Yuuri panted as he leaned against a tree to support himself. His feet were burning with pain and he could feel his energy slipping away from him. It had been no less than a day that he’d been in the Eastlands and yet he felt as if he’d spent his entire life running away. He had always been running away.

Forcing back a sob, he sniffed and allowed himself to slide down on the dirty ground, whispering Yuri’s name.

“Yurio…” he sniffed and huddled his knees close to his chest and rocked back and forth, at a loss on what to do. He was in a such a state when a voice sounded somewhere and a man appeared before him.

“I take it you’ve illegally crossed the border,” he said with a sly smile. Yuuri looked up and came face to face with a man with a long brown hair and evasive light green eyes. Yuuri stared at him questioningly and the man shook his head. “I’ve seen a lot of people like you through the years. I know an illegal crosser when I see one.”

Yuuri’s heartbeat doubled as he tried to shrink himself into the tree in panic. The man does not look like a soldier but he does not look friendly either.

“Don’t… don’t take me back…” Yuuri managed to murmur, cowering towards the rough bark of the tree.

  
The man gave an amused smirk and reached out his hand to Yuuri.

“Celestino Cialdini,” he introduced himself. “And I don’t really cooperate with the government when it comes to illegal crossers like you. Now it’s either you take my hand or you let the soldiers find you and capture you.” Celestino wriggled his hand, a signal for Yuuri to take it and the younger man hesitantly reached out and allowed himself to be pulled up.

“Believe it or not, my work involves helping people like you,” Celestino declared with an evasive smile and Yuuri decided that accepting help from a complete stranger is much better than being captured and detained in some prison somewhere or sent back to the Westlands.

“Y-Yurio…” Yuuri muttered unintelligently and Celestino raised an eyebrow at him. “I can’t leave Yurio…”   
  
“No time for that now. Soldiers patrol this area at this time of day and if you insist on looking for this Yurio or whoever, you’re going to be captured,” Celestino said and pulled an unresisting Yuuri out of the woods. “What’s your name?”

“Yuuri K-Katsuki,” Yuuri answered listelessly, turning his head and looking around for any sign of Yuri. Surely, Yuri is alive. He’s alive.

\------------------------------  
  
Celestino led him to a large house much like what the merchant had. Its walls were painted pure white with large windows and shiny wooden floors. It has a lot of closed doors, large paintings and voices echo around the house while their sources remain hidden.

The moment Celestino entered, he rang a bell perched on the table near the door and two female servants appeared.

“One of you prepare something to eat for Yuuri while the other prepare the bathroom upstairs. He needs a bath,” Celestino ordered and the two female servants bowed without a word as they started working.

“You need to take a bath first before you can eat, Yuuri,” Celestino smiled at him. “Then we’ll see how I can help you. There’s lots of possibilities,” Celestino said mysteriously and Yuuri was too tired to ask him what he meant.

As soon as the servant announced that his bath was ready, Yuuri was led to the bathroom upstairs and soon he found himself soaking in on the warm water that felt heavenly on his bruised body.   
\--------------------------------  
  
Victor rubbed his head as he glanced at the list of workers he needed to replace. There were a number of them this time and if he couldn’t find replacements in time, the field production will have to slow down and his father would not be happy.

“Where do I find this number of people to agree to work with little compensation?” Victor asked and turned to his assistant standing beside him and looking out the window. “Chris?”

The man turned to Victor and cleared his throat.

“I don’t know if you will agree…” Christophe started. “But I know of someone who can provide you with willing people who will not complain even with little remuneration.”

Victor looked at him quizzically and Christophe guiltily avoided his gaze. “Where?” Victor asked, frowning at the way Christophe had been averting his gaze. Realization dawned on him and Victor gasped at his assistant. “You…”

Christophe nodded gravely. “Yes, young master. Illegal border crossers…”

Victor was about to say something when he hear urgent knocking on his door. When Christophe opened it, a pale and panicked Otabek who apparently just returned from duty came stumbling in.

“Victor!” Otabek frantically said with fearful eyes. Victor stood up and stared at his friend. “Don’t ask me why but can I please…. Please… borrow Seung-Gil? I need him to tend to someone…” Otabek said breathlessly.

“What?”  
  
“Please…” Otabek grasped him by the shoulder. “Please… whatever it is, I’ll make sure you won’t be involved in it… I just…” he started shaking Victor.

“Calm down. Fine… I’ll have Chris call him but you need to explain, Otabek. Seung-Gil does not like to be assigned to something he doesn’t know,” Victor said and motioned for Christophe to call for the Nikiforov’s personal healer.

“Thank you…” Otabek sighed. “Thank you, Victor.”

\-------------------------------  
  
Celestino watched as Yuuri hungrily ate. The young man looked innocent as he was chewing and Celestino knew he could make a fortune just by that innocent look alone. Years in the business taught him how to spot a treasure when he finds one and this young boy is one. Yes, Celestino Cialdini helps illegal border crossers but not without a price. He works in secret, trading people for wealthy merchants who need workers and Celestino is not a person who asks what that work is for. As long as he is paid for it, Celestino keeps his mouth shut. He is, after all, engage in illegal trade.

“Satisfied?” he asked when Yuuri stopped eating and started staring at him. “Is there something wrong, Yuuri?”

Yuuri cleared his throat.

“I… don’t have anything to pay you with.”

Celestino chuckled and the chuckles turned to laughter but he didn’t answer. He instead led Yuuri up the stairs and towards a closed door. Celestino inserted a key in the lock and Yuuri found himself inside a very large room with high ceilings and no windows. But the size of the room was not what surprised him. It’s the number of people cramped in that room, staring at them with wide, fearful eyes.

Yuuri barely had the time to react before Celestino roughly pushed him inside and when he looked back, Celestino was once again wearing that evasive smile of his.

Before locking the door, Celestino murmured, “This is how you pay me back, Yuuri.”

Yuuri jumped a little when he heard the lock clicking into place and he knew he was trapped. He looks back at the people staring at him and shivered, reality finally sinking in. What has he gotten himself into?

Shrinking back towards the wall, he stifled a fearful sob as he whispers Yuri’s name.  
“Yurio…”

 

TBC  



End file.
